Disclaimer: Before I get into this, let me just say, this is not me judging or shaming a culture. I’m simply sharing my personal experience as an American living in Spain. I’m not talking down on the country or its people (I love Spain deeply), but some things just stand out when you’ve lived both realities.
Let’s start with standards.
I don’t think the U.S. is perfect, not even close. But I’ll admit, I didn’t realize how high our standards were when it comes to customer service, efficiency, and convenience until I left. It honestly took leaving my own country to appreciate it. The hustle and bustle that we sometimes complain about in the States? Yeah… it kind of pays off.
In Spain, things work differently. Bureaucracy is its own full-time job. You need paperwork for your paperwork, and even then, someone might tell you that you brought the wrong paperwork. It’s truly hit or miss. One person might get what they need in five minutes, and the next day, you’ll go in for the exact same thing and be asked for six new documents, two passport photos, and, for good measure, a copy of the Declaration of Independence. If I had to describe Spanish Bureaucracy in three words? Hit or miss.
And from what I’ve heard, it’s just as bad for the locals when it comes to Spanish bureaucracy. No one is safe, not even the Spaniards. Obviously, as a foreigner, there’s more paperwork and more hoops to jump through, and of course, I want to do everything legally.
For example, I went into a government building in Alicante to get my Certificado de Delitos de Naturaleza Sexual, which, despite the terrifying name, basically just proves I’m not out here trafficking children or anything crazy. They told me I’d get my results in a week. Cute. It’s now been almost three, and I’m still waiting.
Meanwhile, I took an hour-long Renfe train to Murcia, a completely different city, and they handed me the same certificate on the spot. Like, immediately. So please tell me why one city can do it in ten minutes, and the other needs a whole season of waiting?
Spain, I adore you, but sometimes your systems feel like a social experiment to test patience.
In the U.S., at least things are predictable. We may have a lot of rules, but there’s consistency. Maybe not perfect, but at least you know what to expect. You can walk into the DMV and be annoyed, yes, but you’ll still leave knowing exactly what documents you need, what line to stand in, and when you’ll get your results. It’s all painfully organized. If something takes two weeks, it’ll probably take exactly two weeks, not two months, not two lifetimes.
You can track your application online, get an email confirmation, maybe even a text update if you’re lucky. There’s this sense of structure, like, if you follow the steps, you’ll eventually get the result.
In Spain, though? The process depends on the person behind the desk, the mood they’re in, and maybe the weather. One office tells you to book an appointment, the next says you don’t need one, and a third will tell you they only handle that on Tuesdays before 11 a.m. It’s a game of bureaucratic roulette.
Still, if Spain has taught me anything, it’s patience. Everything here moves more slowly, but it’s also a reminder to slow down, to breathe, to not rush life. In the States, everything is so instant that we forget that waiting can be its own kind of peace.
Now, onto mannerisms.
Now, depending on the context, mannerisms can mean a lot of different things, but here are a few that really stand out to me.
In Spain, it’s considered polite to say “hola” or “buenos días” when you walk into a small shop, elevator, or waiting room, even if you don’t know a single person there. In the U.S., we usually keep to ourselves and avoid eye contact. But here, silence feels… awkward. Greeting people is just part of daily life. And honestly, that’s one thing I really appreciate about Spain, it makes everyday life feel more inclusive, like you’re part of a community even in the smallest moments.
Then there’s the whole concept of time. Spaniards are chronically unbothered by it. If something starts at 8, it probably won’t actually start until 8:30. Showing up early can even make you look strange. In the U.S., being late feels like a crime punishable by public shame. In Spain, it’s almost a compliment; it means you took your time and weren’t in a rush.
Now, as much as I try to embrace the “no pasa nada” attitude, being late is one thing I just can’t get behind. Even in the U.S., I’m either ten minutes early or exactly on time. I can appreciate the laid-back lifestyle here, but when it comes to punctuality… that’s one American trait I’ll probably never lose.
I’ve definitely been told I’m easily recognizable as an American, from the way I walk to how I carry myself, and of course, the second I start talking. I used to feel self-conscious about it, but now? I kind of like it. Not in a loud “look at me” way, but in a “oh, she’s from there” kind of way.
In the U.S., we have unspoken rules for public spaces. We walk on the right side of the sidewalk, just like we drive. Slow people keep right, fast people pass on the left. It’s order. It’s structure. It’s peace. But in Spain? There are no sides. Sidewalks and grocery aisles are a free-for-all. If you’ve ever been to Mercadona, you know what I mean, especially in the fruit section. People are coming from every direction, carts crashing, conversations happening mid-aisle, and somehow, no one’s in a hurry.
And personal space? Doesn’t exist. At all. You could be deciding which apple to buy, and someone will practically lean on your shoulder to decide with you. It’s not rude, it’s just normal here. In the U.S., we’d be apologizing six times by now.
So, when it comes to standards and mannerisms, I’ll give the U.S. the win. But that doesn’t mean I love Spain any less. What Spain lacks in structure, it makes up for in soul. What the U.S. nails in efficiency, Spain balances with warmth and spontaneity.
In the end, I’ve learned to love both equally and differently. Because really, what one country lacks, the other somehow makes up for. ¡Hasta luego!
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
